


Misunderstandings

by AccidentalAvenger



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Secret Relationship, Self-Esteem Issues, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-07
Updated: 2014-11-07
Packaged: 2018-02-24 11:56:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2580587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AccidentalAvenger/pseuds/AccidentalAvenger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire and Enjolras are soulmates and, most importantly, they're happy.<br/>The only problem is that their friends don't know that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Misunderstandings

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies for sort of villainising Les Amis. It's because they care and they don't understand.

Number 6 soulmate au

 

“I love you,” Grantaire told Enjolras, falling back onto the pillows, his voice breathless.  
“I love you too,” Enjolras said, tracing the name on Grantaire’s hip gently. His name, in his handwriting. He ducked down and pressed a kiss to the word, Grantaire smiled and gave a light huff of laughter.

"You’re so soppy, you know," he commented, rolling over and grabbing Enjolras’ hand. Enjolras pouted and Grantaire gently kissed their interlocked fingers before continuing, "None of the others would believe how much of a romantic you really are."

Enjolras took a deep breath, “Actually, speaking of the others - I think we should tell our friends. About us. About the fact we’re soulmates.”  
He felt Grantaire stiffen beside him and sighed. He had known before he said anything that Grantaire would react badly. Their year-long relationship had been tumultuous to begin with; full of arguments and clashes. Enjolras had often wondered if the universe made a mistake when it came to him and Grantaire. They had kept their half-relationship secret, too scared it wouldn’t last through their many differences and that the resulting fall out would end up hurting their friends as well.

But they hadn’t fallen apart, even though it had sometimes seemed inevitable. Grantaire and Enjolras had kept trying and somewhere down the line the puzzle pieces had slotted into place. They smoothed out each other’s bad qualities, encouraged the good ones and learnt to deal with the others faults. Their violent arguments had turned into passionate debates and even more passionate sex. Enjolras loved Grantaire. Grantaire loved Enjolras. But still, they hadn’t told their friends.

"I don’t know," Grantaire said cautiously, "I don’t feel ready to tell them yet." Enjolras propped himself up on one elbow and frowned down at his soulmate.  
“Why not?” he asked, “We’ve known for over a year now and I don’t understand why we can’t-“  
“I just don’t feel ready,” Grantaire snapped, cutting him off, “Please Enjolras - I can’t tell them yet. Don’t ask why.”  
Enjolras sighed sadly and bit back the annoyed questions. “Okay,” he allowed at last, “We won’t tell our friends yet. But I want to tell them - soon. I don’t feel comfortable lying to them.”  
“It’s not lying,” Grantaire said, his tone teasing, “It’s just omitting certain truths.”  
“Yes, that’s a form of lying,” Enjolras said before quickly pressing a kiss to Grantaire’s lips. He rolled out of bed, reluctantly leaving the warmth behind.

"Well if we don’t want our friends to know about us just yet I better be going," Enjolras said, grabbing his clothes and beginning to pull them on. Grantaire groaned and made a face. Enjolras raised an eyebrow and pulled out his phone.  
“Hey, I could always text Combeferre where I am so he won’t panic when he wakes up to find me gone,” he suggested but was rewarded with a scowl. Rolling his eyes he shoved his phone back in his pocket.  
“I’ll see you at the meeting later,” Grantaire said as he left. Enjolras shot back a slight smile.

——————

He didn’t see much of Grantaire at the meeting that night. Their friends did their best to keep the pair apart after several arguments that had ‘become too personal’ (little did their friends know the arguments had been personal to begin with). It resulted in their friends carefully manoeuvring the pair away from each other.

He was in the middle of giving a speech when the commotion began in the back corner; where Joly, Bossuet, Jehan and Grantaire sat. He glared over at the area instinctually but his expression softened when he saw how embarrassed Grantaire looked while Joly and Bossuet seemed enthusiastic.

"Can you please be quiet?" he snapped and the three looked up guiltily.  
“Sorry. Joly and Bossuet are trying to set me up on a blind date,” Grantaire said, subtly raising his eyebrows in mock horror. Enjolras’ mouth twisted as he tried not to laugh. Several of their friends had tried setting Grantaire up in a not-so-subtle attempt to help Grantaire ‘get over’ Enjolras. They always laughed about it later but Enjolras couldn’t help but feel jealous whenever Grantaire waltzed off on one of his doomed dates.

"Save your match-making for after the meeting," he said with finality, "Do you have anything of value to add?"  
“Well as always, I think you’re naïvely optimistic,” Grantaire said, holding his bottle of wine and smirking as he leant back in his chair. Enjolras inwardly sighed. How Grantaire could be both aggravating and flirtatious was a mystery to him.

He replied in a long-suffering tone, “Yes. We all know that. You’ve expressed that view often, trust me. Now do you have anything of actual value to add?”

The atmosphere in the room became suddenly cold. His friends stiffened, sitting up straighter and looking nervous. Combeferre sent him a cautious glance and Courfeyrac shook his head a tiny amount. Enjolras knew they expected him to start one of the famous Grantaire-Enjolras fights and that, after such a long period of peace, no one wanted that. The realisation that everyone believed he hated Grantaire hit Enjolras like a brick to the face; it hurt. He wanted them to know how much he loved the man, how much he regretted so many of the horrible things he had said during their rocky beginning. But he couldn’t say unless Grantaire agreed.

"Try getting some opinions of people actually living on the street? Not everything on the internet is true," suggested Grantaire. There was an intake of breath from everyone in the room as they waited for Enjolras’ reply, focused on the blond man.  
“Okay. We’ll try and find someone willing to talk to us next week. Maybe contact a shelter,” Enjolras said and Grantaire gave him a small, private smile. As everyone exhaled and turned away Enjolras returned the smile. Grantaire gave him a wink and he couldn't help but blush, ducking his head. Infuriating, completely infuriating.

———————-

"You know," Enjolras commented, pressing himself against Grantaire and pushing him up against the bar of the now-empty Musain, "If you don’t want our friends to know about us then you shouldn’t flirt with me in a meeting."  
“Where’s the fun in that?” Grantaire purred into his soulmate’s ear. Enjolras rolled his eyes.  
“You’re insufferable,” he said as Grantaire began to kiss his neck, his hands running down to Grantaire’s waistband.  
“You like it,” Grantaire murmured. Enjolras could feel his lips twist in to a smile and his stomach felt like it was full of moths.  
“I do,” he admitted, giving up on his stubbornness for once, “Though I would like it more if you weren’t going on a date with someone else tomorrow night.”  
“I love it when you get all jealous and pouty,” Grantaire replied, pulling Enjolras’ hips forwards and grinding slightly. Enjolras gave a low moan and leant down to gently bite Grantaire’s bottom lip, eliciting a delicious sound from the man.

The door flew open suddenly. Enjolras spun round in surprise, his hands still clasped in the waist-band of Grantaire’s paint-stained jeans.  
“Holy shit,” said Combeferre, staring in shock, dropping Courfeyrac’s hand. The matching tattoos on their wrist stand out clearly.  
“Okay I was not expecting that,” Courfeyrac commented, eyes wide as he took in the scene; the flush in their faces, their closeness and the their swollen lips.  
“Wait what?” Bahorel asked, peering over the heads of everyone else.  
“I guess we didn’t need to panic so much when we realised that we left these two alone together,” ventured Bossuet.  
“Oh my god, I’m psychic. You all owe me so much money,” Jehan said, folding their arms and looking very smug. Joly elbowed them.

———

"You can’t do this, Enjolras," snapped Courfeyrac, pacing the floor of the Musain, "I can’t believe you could be this selfish."  
Enjolras stared at him blankly, confused. Combeferre, Bahorel, Feuilly all stood by the door threateningly, making it clear that if he tried to go after Grantaire - who had been whisked away by the others - they would stop him. Eponine glared at him evilly from the corner and he swallowed nervously; if looks could kill he would be six feet under.

Feuilly realised Enjolras obvious confusion and sighed.  
“I don’t think he gets it,” he commented and then looked squarely at the blond, “Enjolras - Grantaire is in love with you. He has been for a long time. Though whatever you’re doing is consensual, Grantaire’s feelings are much stronger than yours. You don’t realise how seriously he’ll take this; it will end with you hurting him.”

Enjolras stared in Feuilly, horrified. He couldn’t believe that his friends could ever assume that of him.  
“You don’t get it,” he began angrily but Eponine cut him off furiously, “No Enjolras. You don’t get it! You can’t just mess around with someone’s emotions like that. You can’t use someone for sex and just drop them. You don’t love Grantaire and you’re going to break his heart.”  
“Don’t tell me what I feel,” hissed Enjolras, feeling angrier than he ever felt before. He saw Feuilly take a step back and glance towards Bahorel who also looked surprised. Enjolras was charming; cold but patient. But now he was on fire; alive with fury. He couldn’t believe the presumptions of his friends.

"Are Joly and Bossuet telling Grantaire that I don’t love him," he asked coldly, his lips curling in a sneer as he turned to Combeferre and Courfeyrac who looked unsure. Enjolras felt like he was burning up but somehow the temperature had dropped. He had promised once that Grantaire would never hear that again - after a horrible, bitter fight which had ended up with both of them crying and not talking for days. Enjolras had almost been sick when he had found out that Grantaire had easily believed the angry words Enjolras had tossed carelessly at him.

"Yes," ventured Combeferre eventually and Enjolras physically snarled.  
“How fucking dare you?” he spat out, “Where are they?”  
“We aren’t telling you,” snapped Eponine, seemingly un-phased by Enjolras sudden slide to anger, “The last thing he needs to see right now is you.”  
“You don’t know anything,” Enjolras said through gritted teeth, his whole body tense with fury, “You don’t know what Grantaire wants. All I know is that I’m not going to stand by and let someone tell him lies about me. Now tell me where he and the others are.”

The room was silent and Enjolras clenched and unclenched his fists. He had never felt so much hatred or betrayal before. The group stared at him, unsure of what to do. Just as Enjolras was about to repeat himself, maybe embellishing the question with a threat, the door burst open and Jehan strode into the room in their flowery combat boots.

Before anyone could say anything Jehan had grabbed Enjolras’ arm and pulled him out of the back-room, leaving the silent gathering staring after them as the door slammed shut.  
“I know where Grantaire is,” said Jehan shortly, dropping Enjolras’ arm, “Come with me.”

He led Enjolras down the stairs of the Musain and out of the door.  
“Where are we going?” snapped Enjolras, coming to a halt, unable to bring himself to trust his friend.  
“Grantaire tried to walk out midway through the conversation but Joly, Bossuet and Cosette followed. I came back for you,” Jehan said, sighing as they stopped as well.  
“Why?” demanded Enjolras.  
“Well, you two are soulmates aren’t you?” Jehan asked, head tilting in a question. Enjolras stared at them, horror and shock mixing with the anger inside him. He felt sick, emotions churning around inside him.

"Wh- how?" he eventually managed to choke out. Jehan rolled their eyes.  
“Walk and talk,” they said, tugging on Enjolras arm. He began walking, feeling shell-shocked.  
“I caught a glimpse of Grantaire’s tattoo once - just a glimpse. But I could have sworn it was your name. So I started paying attention. At first I thought I had got it wrong, or that Grantaire had your name but you didn’t have his,” Jehan explained as the hurried down the street, “But you two are obvious, really. Not even subtle. You blush when Grantaire flirts with you in meetings; you used to just ignore it. Everyone else is too worried a fight will start to see it but you go pink. It’s sweet.”  
“Oh.”  
“I could go on all day about the tiny things you two do; hands lingering whenever you pass something to R, eyes gravitating towards each other, blatantly checking the other’s ass out, etcetera, etcetera.” Enjolras blushed and looked away, knowing Jehan was right. They noticed and chuckled.  
“Don’t be embarrassed; it’s adorable. It’s poetic. It’s a shame the others are too scared Grantaire will end up throwing himself at your feet in unrequited devotion and you’ll trample him without even noticing, to see it. They’re blinded.”  
“Trust me, I know,” Enjolras spat out bitterly.  
“Don’t be angry with them. They just want to protect you two. They’re so caught up in their fear that you’ll end up hurting each other; you with your charming coldness and Grantaire’s destructive apathy, that they just can’t see it working,” Jehan said, laying a gentle hand on Enjolras’ arm. He took a deep shaky breath.  
“I know,” he said, less bitterly, “They’re just so wrong.” Jehan nodded sympathetically, speeding up.  
“Prove them wrong then,” they suggested, “We better hurry up.”

————

Grantaire was leaning up against the brick wall, face pressed into his hands. Cosette had a hand resting comfortingly on his arm while Joly and Bossuet spoke gently to him. 

As Enjolras approached he heard what they were saying.  
“We just don’t want you getting hurt. Enjolras - I don’t think he realises how much you care about him. We’re afraid you’re going to get your heart broken,” Joly was saying softly.  
“R - you can do better. You deserve someone who will love you properly,” Bossuet added, looking concerned.  
“Shut up. Please shut up,” muttered Grantaire, “you don’t get it. It’s my choice.”  
“We know. We aren’t shaming you for sleeping with him,” Cosette said gently, “We just want what’s best for you and him.”

"And you don’t get to choose that," snapped Enjolras, pushing past Jehan, unable to hold himself back, "We get to decide that."  
He heard Grantaire give a relieved sigh as he stepped forward to stand beside his soulmate.

Joly, Bossuet and Cosette stared at him in horror. Jehan coughed awkwardly and Cosette glared accusingly at them. Enjolras didn’t care though as Grantaire dropped his hands away from his face and clasped Enjolras’. He smiled sadly at Grantaire and leant in to kiss him.

"I do love you," he murmured and Grantaire nodded.  
“I know that,” he insisted, “I really do. But they don’t think I’m good enough for you. I’m not-”  
His voice sounded shaky and he squeezed Enjolras’ hand. Enjolras shook his head, his expression fierce.

"You’re perfect for me," Enjolras said, "Even the universe knows that."  
“Wait - even the universe?” Costte asked but Grantaire ignored her and smiled slightly sadly at Enjolras.  
“I’m not. I’m a mess,” Grantaire told him and the words feel like Enjolras is being punched, “You’re so perfect and I - I don’t deserve you.”  
“Look - I’m not perfect, you’re not perfect; our fights pretty much prove that. But I love you and you make me a better person. Deserving doesn’t come into it. You aren’t a prize - I’m not a prize. We’re us. And I love you.”

Grantaire smiled weakly but a horrible realisation hit Enjolras.  
“Is the reason you didn’t want to tell our friends we’re soulmates because you didn’t think you were good enough?” Enjolras asked, dreading the answer. Grantaire looked away and was silent.  
"I’m sorry," Enjolras whispered and Grantaire looks up sharply.  
“What?”  
“I’m sorry,” Enjolras repeated, clutching Grantaire’s hand tightly, “I’m sorry that I made you feel that way, that I didn’t realise.” He heard the clatter of feet and heavy breathing but ignored it, focused on Grantaire.

Grantaire shook his head. “You didn’t make me feel this way. I just do, even when I tell myself it’s okay, that we’re soulmates I’m gonna feel this way sometimes. It’s how my brain works. You loving me isn’t gonna fix all the fucked up stuff. It helps, you make me want to sort out all the fucked up stuff but I’m gonna take a long time to love myself as much as I love you.”

Someone behind them began to ask something but they were quickly shushed. Enjolras steadfastly ignored them, still angry at his friends, and lent in to kiss Grantaire. It was a gentle kiss and Grantaire smiled slightly against his lips. Enjolras drew away and mustered a smile.  
"So, do you want to-?" he suggested, jerking his head towards their friends behind him. Grantaire sighed and gave a short laugh.  
“I don’t suppose we have much choice anymore. Unless we want constant lectures on how unhealthy our relationship is. Really goes to show the extent of internalized prejudice towards non-soulmate relationships.”  
Enjolras opened his mouth to argue that internalized prejudice is easily combated but he closed it again quickly.  
“You’re wrong but we’ll discuss that later,” he said with a fond smile, “you okay with this?”  
Grantaire nodded and squeezed his hand.

Enjolras spun on his heel to face their friends who were standing in a semi-circle watching the couple. There were varying degrees of anger, confusion, realisation and, in Jehan’s case, self-satisfied happiness written across their faces. Several looked embarrassed and ashamed and didn’t quite meet Enjolras’ proud gaze. He tried not to feel satisfied but failed.

Enjolras surveyed his friends before taking a deep breath.  
“Here’s the thing, mes amis; Grantaire is my soulmate.”  
He turned his head to smile at the man beside him who smiled back shyly.

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk to to me on tumblr at stars-shone-through-his-soul.tumblr.com!


End file.
